


stop this game: it's such a touchy, touchy thing

by SafelyCapricious



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Consent Issues, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Rough Sex, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:00:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3471929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SafelyCapricious/pseuds/SafelyCapricious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When evaluating a possible Alien artifact, Grant and Jemma accidently stumble across a suspicious patch of flowers in the otherwise empty desert. </p><p>Things go about as expected from there.</p><p>Do heed the tags.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stop this game: it's such a touchy, touchy thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jdphoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/gifts).



> This is a present for the wonderful JD. Because friends give friends smut, apparently.

The two mice who were separated had died. Jemma was fairly sure they had both had heart attacks but given the obvious time concern she wasn’t going to be able to perform little mouse-y autopsies.

In the cage with the one exposed mouse and the other not, the mating behavior had turned into necrophilia quite alarmingly. 

The cage with the two mice both together, however, was going swimmingly well. They’d even managed to consume some liquid and food in the midst of their mating. Though it was slightly alarming that they hadn’t bothered to disengage for either activity.

“Well.” Jemma’s voice came out shaky, so she cleared her throat and realized she didn’t actually know how to proceed. 

She turned to the glass where the rest of the team, minus Ward who was glowering over her shoulder, was watching the mice in equal parts horror and fascination. Mostly horror. Not for the first time Jemma thought that they really needed to get Skye in some counseling or something.

Coulson cleared his throat, and she was glad for the distraction, or at least not to be put on the spot. “So, it definitely has to be with someone else exposed. But that doesn’t mean – We could expose someone else if you two…” He trailed off, obviously uncomfortable. 

Jemma could only imagine the face she was making, so she ducked her head so that it couldn’t be seen.

Finally, Ward spoke. And she thought she knew what was coming and had prepared her ego for the blow, so she was more than a little surprised when he said, “I’m not going to have sex with someone who doesn’t want to, but that’s my only objection to Simmons. So if she wants someone else we can infect them and we’ll go from there.”

She was well aware that she was blushing fiercely but she forced her head up and said, “I have no objections to Ward. I do have objections to contaminating the lab further. Perhaps someone can put a cot in the Cage and turn off the video feed?”

She refused to look at Ward even after the others had run to comply. By her calculations, based on the difference in body mass of mice to them, they had between twenty and forty-five minutes before the chemical took effect. 

Fifteen minutes later they were cleared to go to the Cage, with Fitz in a surgical mask and gloves prepared to decontaminate the path they took as well as the lab once they’d gone.

Someone, and Jemma’s bet was absolutely on Skye, had strung up Christmas lights in the cell. There was also a mattress from someone’s bunk; Jemma was really hoping it was going to end up being Ward’s and not hers. The table was there and covered with an awful lot of Gatorade as well as various types of snack bars. And condoms. A massive number of condoms. 

The reality was starting to sink in for her, and she awkwardly stood, unsure of what to do, when Ward finally cleared his throat and spoke. “There’s still time, if you don’t want to do this with me.” She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and felt some worry she hadn’t realized she’d had release.

**

He hated that he’d made the offer. He didn’t want to, but it was exactly what his cover would’ve done and he was fairly certain he was going to slip up more than a little once, well, he’d seen what the mice were doing. So he had to be extra careful until then of staying as true to his cover as possible. 

He kept his head ducked because if he looked at her he was going to grab her and throw her down and take her on the ground, but he managed to murmur out, gentle and sorry like his cover would, “I won’t be able to forgive myself if I hurt you.”

He could already feel the heat pounding in his veins. It was rather telling that it felt more like the rage of the Staff then the false seduction of that Asgardian Bitch.

He could see her move in his periphery and he had to shut his eyes and clench his fists to resist. He didn’t want to hurt her, not seriously, but behind his eyelids he could already see the tempting images of leaving teeth marks and bruises on her, making it so she’d have to remember him for weeks after this was all over and she’d gone back to playing the good little scientist. 

Her voice was soft but sure, and with a tone he’d never heard from her before that had him clenching his fists hard enough to feel the sting of his nails. “I would rather do this with you then with anyone else on the bus. And I trust you Ward. I don’t think you’d hurt me.”

He clenched his jaw to try to keep from saying something incriminating, instead pushing back at the pulsing waves of lust with the same focus that he’d managed to use to keep the rage back. He forced a deep breath and lied with as much control as he could manage, “It’s been a very long time since I’ve had sex outside of a mission. I might be a little…forceful.”

He ran a hand over his face. His cover would be gentle with sex, hell, his cover had been gentle with sex to the point that he knew he was disappointing May, which was almost worth the whole charade. He had excellent control and had never dropped a cover before, even in the midst of his rage he’d managed.

He didn’t think he was going to manage through this.

When Simmons’ spoke next her voice was husky. “I know this will surprise you, but I actually prefer rough sex.” 

His head jerked up and he stared at her. She was biting her lower lip and watching him with lust dark eyes. He wasn’t sure if she meant that or if it was the stupid dust that had gotten them in this situation causing it, but it was enough for him.

Only the thought of one of the team watching this kept him from pulling her to him then. Instead he cleared his throat, deliberately making it awkward and doing it twice as his eyes tracked her pulse beating in her neck. “Maybe you should call me Grant.” He’d have her screaming it, soon enough. 

A flush was starting to rise to her cheeks and he watched, a little mesmerized, as her shaking fingers started to undo the buttons on her shirt. The flush was the first thing that had definitely indicated she was feeling the effects. He had to wait. His cover wouldn’t jump her yet.

Her voice shook, a little, when she said, “Please, call me Jemma. And I’m going to take these off before they get ripped.” 

His self-control was shredded with the mental image of ripping it off of her. That was what he wanted to do. He made a sound like a growl and she froze. His eyes were fixed squarely on where her hands were working the button right between her breasts. He took a step forward and she swallowed, her breasts rising and falling with her shallow breaths.

His cover. He had to stay with his cover as long as he could. He tried to purposefully gentle his hands as he reached out to finish the job, saying, “Let me.” He could see that her bra was pale pink satin and he was never going to be able to forget that she was wearing such pretty little scraps under her reserved clothes. 

She shrugged it off as soon as the last button was undone and he ducked down to take her already pebbling nipple into his mouth through the bra. Her fingers dug into his hair, holding him there and her back bowed. His back instantly ached from the angle but he didn’t want to pull away. Instead he picked her up easily, and with a swipe of his arm the table was clear enough and he set her on it. Her shoes clattered to the ground and he kicked one out of the way to step closer.

She made a mewing noise and started to say, “But the con-“ when he bit down and her words died in her throat. Her fingers clenched in his hair and the sound she made was still of pleasure. When he pulled back he could see his teeth marks through the now semi-transparent bra. She was panting and he grinned, smug, and rubbed his thumb over her nipple. 

Her hand that wasn’t still buried in his hair scrabbled for his belt, frantic fingers having issues navigating the simple clasp. 

He didn’t help, instead tangling one hand in her hair so he could pull her head back and kiss her, thoroughly. He bit at her lips until she was making soft noises of almost pain, and then he soothed her with his tongue and with gentle lips. Her hands fell away and gripped the edge of the table, knuckles going white as she arched into his touch.

He regretted the fact that he was clean-shaven, his mind happy to supply images of her skin marked up just from the pass of his cheek. 

His other hand he slipped between her thighs, fingers rubbing over her panties. They were already delightfully wet. He wished he could take more credit for it, but given the chemicals rushing through their bodies, he had no way of telling how much of it was him and how much was artificial. 

The thought made him a little vicious, and he dropped his mouth to the hinge of her jaw, determined to leave a mark that she couldn’t ignore. 

She collapsed backward, only being held up by his hand that was still in her hair, as he bit at her jaw and slid two fingers into her. She was hot and wet and tight and if not for the chemicals, Grant wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t have lost it right then. He was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to come until he was buried in her, however. Just like he was sure she couldn’t come without him. 

“Fuck.” He breathed out against her neck as he felt her shudder against him. He didn’t want to let go of her, but his pants were still on. She seemed to have similar feelings, however, and her hands were at his belt again in the next instant, he wasn’t sure if she’d gotten further than he realized last time or if desperation made her more apt, but she was pushing them down his legs within seconds, helping the descent with her toes.

Her hands around him felt like torture and he had to pull back and grit his teeth when she rolled the condom down his length. 

There was no gentleness left when, as soon as her hands moved away, he shoved into her. 

She keened, long and low and he caught his breath against her neck. She felt perfect, clenching around him. But somehow it wasn’t right. 

He used his hand in her hair to guide her back to lie on the table, then dug his fingers into her hips and tried an experimental thrust before snarling. 

She had tears in her eyes and was writhing in desperation. “Please Grant, please, please. Make me come.” 

He tried. He hadn’t thought she’d need it, with the chemicals, but he pulled her legs up around his ribs and he thrust again, thumb on her clit, and still she struggled, unable to come. 

With another snarl he pulled out, ripped off the condom and plunged in. 

She felt like heaven as she shattered around him. He only took two more thrusts to follow her, and he collapsed over her on the table. The heat ebbed but didn’t dissipate, and if his cock ever softened he wasn’t aware of it. 

He was, momentarily, aware of the state they were in. Him still in his shirt with his pants around his ankles, boots still in place. She, at least, was missing her shirt, though her bra was still present, her skirt was shoved up around her waist and her panties were only yanked to the side. He could feel the lace edging against his cock as he rolled against her. 

He leaned up off of her, hands supporting himself by the sides of her head, surprised she hadn’t complained about his weight, and thrust in again. She arched her back and moaned, her own hands finding purchase against his back and digging in. “Harder.” Her voice was demanding, and he wanted nothing more than to slow everything down, just to torment her, but though his mind was willing, his body wasn’t. Instead he found himself using the far end of the table to brace himself and fucked her hard enough that he was sure her thighs would be bruised from his hips the following day.

He grinned at the thought and let her drag him down, fingernails digging into the back of his neck, for a rough kiss. A particularly rough thrust made her pull back to pant, open mouthed, making little noises in the back of her throat, and he moved from kissing her to nibbling on her ear. 

Her fingernails dug in harder, and she came, shuddering and gasping. Feeling her flutter and grip him caused him to lose what few shred of control he still had, but this time it didn’t lay him out flat. 

He pulled back and stripped his shirt off before reaching to undo Jemma’s bra. She blinked up at him, eyes dark and dazed, mouth open in an invitation he couldn’t refuse. 

She bit his lip hard enough to sting, and when he pulled back she was looking more herself, but infinitely smug. “Bed, please.” 

He smirked down at her and gave one fast roll of his hips that had her arching again, using her movement to slip a hand behind her back so he could pull her to his chest. Her legs slipped down lower on his waist, causing her to moan and wiggle at the change of angle. He held her there for a long moment, enjoying her attempts at movement, before carefully shuffle stepping backwards. 

He sat down on the edge of the mattress, her still perched in his lap. She now had the leverage to actually move, and before he could do anything else, like take off his boots and pants which he really wanted to do, she took shameless advantage of it.

He groaned, fingers digging into her hips hard enough that he knew there would be bruises. She bit her lower lip and continued to ride him, using hands on his shoulders and her knees on the bed to move. His head fell back and suddenly she was there, sucking a mark into his neck. He fell back, body arching as he came hard enough to ache, swearing in every language he knew. 

She laughed, and he slanted a look at her, pretty sure he couldn’t sit up yet. But it was a challenge, and so he motivated himself and with moments she was on her back and he was rolling his hips, her legs pulled up over his shoulders. Her laughter was forgotten and she was making little shocked ‘oh’s at each push of his hips.

Her eyes rolled back in her head and her fingers tore at the blankets, her mouth open in a silent scream. He kept up the same rolling tempo, gritting his teeth against his own orgasm to prolong hers. When she finally went completely limp he let go, collapsing over her again.

“Fuck.” He didn’t recognize his voice.

She wiggled under him, and for a moment he thought she was going to force him off of her, but instead she let out a sigh and stilled. “My skirt is starting to itch. Can we actually get undressed now? Some chafing is inevitable, this we can avoid.” 

He sighed and nodded. The pulse of heat was still present, waiting, but it was a little less than it had been previously. No part of him wanted to leave her wet heat, but if he had to he could do it now. 

“Grant.” Her voice sounded amused, but it was her fingernails running down his spine that finally motivated him to move, because if she kept that up they wouldn’t have time to take anything off. 

He pulled out, appeased somewhat by the moue of distress she made before she sprung to pushing her skirt and underwear down her legs. He managed to get his boots off and pants kicked the rest of the way off in record time, and when he turned back to her she was already pulling him back in. 

The heat came rushing back as he pushed in and he set his teeth into her shoulder and set about chasing it the only way he knew how.

**

Jemma had never felt so well used in her life. She’d lost track of the number of times she’d come, a few of them melding so seamlessly into the following time that she wasn’t even entirely sure how to categorize them.

She was fairly sure at least part of it was due to the sex pollen. 

Grant – and she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to think of him as Ward again – was unlike she had expected. She’d never spent much time thinking about it, just a passing thought now or then, but she’d assumed he’d be softer, gentle and a little fumbling. 

She was wrong.

She was delightfully wrong.

He was still buried inside of her. 

They’d had a few false ends where they thought it had passed only to disengage too soon and end up in some fairly uncomfortable, if eventually satisfactory, positions that this time they’d opted to stay together. 

He’d passed out, left her leaning over his chest and nibbling on a granola bar. She always felt energized after sex.

She was also fairly positive it wasn’t over yet. For one thing, he was still hot and hard inside of her and she still didn’t feel over stimulated, which meant that no matter how much they had worked out of their system she didn’t think it was done just yet. 

She rolled her hips absently, not enough to get anywhere, just enough to keep herself on the edge that she could feel building. She could feel the sting of the teeth marks he’d left on her breast as she rubbed against his chest, the ache of his hand prints on her hips and the various bruises marking her upper chest. 

She wondered if he was always like that. If it was only because of the pollen or because, as he’d claimed, it had been a while for him. 

She shuddered, remembering the near feral look in his eyes, body tightening and hips picking up their rhythm. 

Within moments she was under him again. Her granola bar dropping to the bed as he controlled their movements, mouth meeting hers in a harsh kiss that had her mewling. 

“Fuck Jemma, you feel so good.” It wasn’t the first time that his voice seemed to be the catalyst for her orgasm, and she was fairly sure it wouldn’t be the last – if just in her own daydreams. 

His mouth dropped to her neck when she arched, feeling the tension snap, and she came with him sucking yet another bruise onto her body. 

She was fairly sure he hadn’t come this time, though even that was hard to tell, so she started to tighten around him in waves until he had to release her neck. She took advantage and bit her own matching mark into his neck. If she was going to have to deal with hickies, so was he. 

She felt herself approaching her edge again when he finally came, shuddering, and collapsing comfortably over her. There was something she found very settling about being under his warm weight. 

She moved one hand to pat around the bed, finally finding and grabbing the discarded granola. He groaned and pushed up and she held it up for him, meeting his eyes with a small smile as he took a bite without taking it out of her hand. 

“I think it’s probably going to be over soon.” Her own voice was husky, a byproduct of one too many screaming orgasms as well as slight dehydration. 

He hummed and took another bite from her hand, sharp eyes tracing her features. “Yeah.” He ate the last bit, tongue licking out to touch her fingers when she finally released it, and smirked down at her once he was done chewing.

She traced her fingers over his cheekbone, allowing herself to have a moment. “This is going to be awkward no matter what, won’t it?” 

He blinked and she watched as even his eyes changed. He’d already been looking at her with a surprising amount of affection, but also with heat. Now the heat was gone and it was much sweeter. Even the angle he held his jaw changed. 

She didn’t want that. She dragged him down into a kiss, hand firm against his face. Her other hand she used to grab a handful of his bum and urge him to move, it wasn’t over yet.

She didn’t want it to be over yet.

**Author's Note:**

> My writing tumblr can be found [here](http://capriciouswrites.tumblr.com/)! Come say hi and give me a prompt.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed! I'm going to go study for an exam and pretend this never happened, okay? Cool.


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